


No Vacancy

by xylodemon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blanket Fic, First Time, M/M, MWPP Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-24
Updated: 2005-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylodemon/pseuds/xylodemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is only one room at the inn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Vacancy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musesfool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/gifts).



> For [](http://musesfool.livejournal.com/profile)[**musesfool**](http://musesfool.livejournal.com/), who wanted more fic where Remus and Sirius are forced to share a bed.

"Pardon?"

"That's all I've got," Tom says. He looks up from his ledger and favors Remus with a toothless, apologetic smile. "Just the one."

Remus glances at the bar, where Sirius is chatting with a blonde girl Remus vaguely remembers from school. A Hufflepuff, maybe. Sirius leans into her, leers a little, and ghosts a hand over her platinum curls.

"But there are two of us," Remus says, frowning. _Possibly three_.

"I understand that, I do," Tom replies, "but I've got what I've got."

"But--"

"Look son, you're lucky I've got the one." Tom sighs and runs a hand over his bald head. "Puddlemere United is in town, 'cause they're taking autographs at Quality Quidditch tomorrow."

"Right," Remus says, glancing at the bar again. Sirius now has one hand on his glass and the other on the blonde's arse. Remus thinks he should have gone home with James and Peter.

_"One more round, Moony."_

_"But James and Peter are leaving now."_

_"Girl's blouses, the both of them. Afraid to make mischief now that they've got steady birds."_

_"It's late, Sirius."_

_"S'fine. We can get a couple of rooms and sleep it off."_

"Even The Talisman down at Knockturn is full," Tom continues, "and they usually can't give beds in that rathole away."

"I'll take it," Remus says darkly.

He passes over the money Sirius gave him, and decides it is going to be a long night, because Sirius is probably too drunk to manage a decent Silencing Charm. Remus just hopes the blonde is not a screamer.

"Number eight," Tom declares, handing Remus a long, brass key on a cauldron-shaped tag. "Top of the stairs, last door on the left."

"Thanks."

"Housekeeping may not've been up that way, yet," Tom goes on. "If there's no linens on the bed, you'll find some at the bottom of the wardrobe."

"Sorry," Remus sputters. "Did you say 'the bed'?"

"Did you not want one?"

The noise and the direction of this conversation is making the dull ache in his head turn into a throb. He really should have gone home with James and Peter, but that would've meant telling Sirius no, and he's never been able to do that.

"I wanted two."

"Number eight only has one," Tom says. "Unless--" he trails off, and peers over Remus' shoulder. "Madge, do we have any of them roll-away-beds left?"

An older witch stops sweeping the floor to look over at Tom and further ruins Remus' evening by shaking her head.

"I took the last one up to number four 'bout ten minutes ago."

"Just the one," Tom says finally.

He sighs, and heads over toward the bar. Sirius' hand has not moved from the blonde's arse. They are still chatting, but Sirius' words seem directed at the open button on her blouse. Up close, Remus recognizes her. Elise Witherspoon, from Ravenclaw. She finished school a year before them, and Sirius is going to shag her.

She frowns at Remus when he clears his throat. It takes Sirius a moment to look up, but when he does, he favors Remus with one of those lazy smiles that makes Remus' skin flush.

"Moony!"

"Here," Remus says, handing him the key. "Number eight."

"What about you?"

"I'm going home."

Sirius' hand leaves Elise's arse and flies up to catch Remus' sleeve.

"Why?" Sirius asks. His gray eyes widen, focusing on Remus. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips, and Remus' cock stirs.

"They only had one room, and you're--" Remus trails off, glancing at Elise, who may not yet know Sirius is going to shag her. "Take it. I can use the floo."

"Moony."

"Elise."

Remus looks up and Sirius scowls. Behind Elise is a bloke Remus also remembers from school; Remus thinks he must have finished a year or two before her. He's taller than Sirius, with dark hair and dark eyes, and he's wearing more leather at once than Sirius even owns.

The leather aside, Remus thinks Sirius is much better looking.

"I was looking all over you," Elise coos. She slides off the barstool and away from Sirius, laying a hand on the bloke's arm. "Sirius here was just keeping me company until you got back."

The bloke frowns at Sirius, but Sirius shrugs and turns back to Remus.

"Well, that's sorted, then," Sirius says. "You can stay."

He stands and starts herding Remus toward the stairs. It's a bit awkward, since Sirius is the drunk one, but he's rather sure on his feet for as much as he's had.

"But Sirius," Remus says. He stops, which makes Sirius sway a bit, and he steadies himself with a hand on Remus' shoulder.

"But what?"

"There's only one bed."

Sirius pauses at that, tilting his head thoughtfully, then waves Remus off with a laugh.

"We'll share, then." Sirius says.

"But--" _That's what I'm afraid of._

"We shared all the time, at school." Sirius slurs a bit, and Remus wonders if he's still drunk, or just tired.

Remus can't argue with that, because it's true. The sixth-year dormitories had been especially draughty, and nightmares had been common that year, as well as the year after. Remus had shared with James a dozen times and with Peter more than that.

He'd only shared with Sirius twice, and he'd learned quickly that sleeping with Sirius was more frustration than he could take. But Sirius doesn't know that, and Remus isn't about to tell him. When Sirius takes him by the elbow, Remus allows himself to be led.

He regrets it as soon as he gets upstairs and inside number eight. The bed has linens, but it's small, less than half the size of a Hogwarts four-poster. They are not going to fit unless they sleep on top of each other, and that is not something Remus should think about right now -- especially since Sirius looks like he means to sleep in just his pants.

"Sirius," Remus begins.

"It's bloody hot in here," Sirius announces, unbuttoning his jeans. His shirt is already on the floor by his feet, and Remus suddenly can't swallow. He simply stares, his eyes following the lines of Sirius' chest, the trail of dark hair sneaking under the waistband of his jeans.

Pants now, because Sirius' jeans have joined his shirt on the floor.

"Come to bed, Moony," Sirius says, and Remus feels another rush of warmth, pooling in dangerous places.

"Yeah, all right," Remus replies quietly. He walks around to his side of the bed and tosses back the covers.

"Wait," Sirius says, frowning. "You're going to sleep in that?"

"What else should I wear, Sirius?" Remus asks sharply. He tired, and he can't deal with this right now, not when Sirius is half-naked in a bed they are about to share. "I didn't realize when you came through the floo saying 'let's go to the Cauldron for a drink' that I needed to pack my pyjamas."

"I'm sorry," Sirius says, in that quiet, hurt voice he has that makes Remus want to hit him and hug him at the same time. "I didn't want to go home."

Sirius doesnt say _Because it's lonely there_ , but Remus knows he's thinking it.

Remus subsides; he knows things have been difficult for Sirius recently. Between school and living with James, Sirius has grown used to always having his friends about. Now that school is finished, now that Peter and James (mainly James) look like they mean business about their girls, Sirius has been alone more in the last two months than he's been in the last two years, and he's taking it hard.

He unbuttons his trousers and slides them off, because it _is_ hot in there, and he knows Sirius will never leave him alone otherwise. Being in bed with Sirius Black trouser-less is a bad idea, but it is better than being trouser-less and shirtless. He has a valid reason to keep his shirt on, one Sirius knows of and won't take the piss about.

"Goodnight, Sirius." Remus say quietly. He extinguishes the lights with a wave of his wand and pulls the blanket around him like a shield.

"'Night, Remus."

It doesn't take long for Remus to realize he is never going to sleep, not with Sirius next to him. The darkness puts Sirius out of sight, but it does not put him out of mind. If anything, it makes Remus more aware of him. He can feel the heat of Sirius' body, feel the slide of skin against skin where his shoulder is pressed into Sirius'. He can hear Sirius moving, hear him breathing, and it is driving him insane.

Since there will be no sleep, he does the next best thing. He covers his face with his hands begs his cock to behave.

He's nearly talked it down, with rather disquieting thoughts of Dumbledore and Snivellus, when Sirius ruins everything. Sirius makes a soft, sleepy noise that shouldn't be attractive from anyone, and rolls over, flopping an arm across Remus' body.

"Moony," Sirius mumbles. His voice is throaty and thick, and Remus is ridiculously hard.

Remus takes a long, shaky breath. He gives up on his cock, and starts silently pleading with Sirius to just bugger off to his own side of the bed. Sirius does nothing of the sort; he buries his face in Remus' shoulder and somehow manages to press closer.

He wonders how angry Sirius would be if _he_ buggered off, because there is a good chance he could get away with it. Sirius sleeps like the dead after he's been drinking, and he must be asleep -- he wouldn't be draped all over Remus like this if he wasn't.

He wouldn't be sliding his hand under Remus' shirt, either, or kissing his neck.

Remus panics, and his mind shuts off completely. One hand finds Sirius' shoulder to shove him away, because Sirius has to be dreaming or sleepwalking or out of his mind, but the other hand tangles in Sirius' hair. He's wanted this for years, and part of him doesn't care that Sirius might not mean it.

"Take this off," Sirius says, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"What?" Remus asks. Sirius _must_ be awake, and Remus can _not_ have heard him right.

"I said, take this off."

Remus doesn't move, because the coherent part of his brain still can't parse that sentence. Sirius makes a vexed, impatient noise and yanks Remus' shirt over his head.

Then Sirius is kissing him, softly, his tongue pushing gently at Remus' lips. Sirius is touching him, his hand smoothing over Remus' chest and stomach, and it's wonderful, it's better than Remus ever imagined, except for the part where Sirius doesn't mean it.

"Sirius, stop it," Remus says. He makes himself pull back, because this is not on. He wants Sirius, he always has, but he doesn't want Sirius like this. "You're drunk."

"Not much," Sirius replies. He leans in again, mouthing wetly at Remus' neck, and his hand hovers near the waistband of Remus' pants.

"You like girls."

"Like you better," Sirius says.

Sirius' face is close again, and Remus freezes. He remembers all the girls he's watched Sirius pull, and thinks Sirius is taking the piss. He has to be.

"Always have," Sirius says, against Remus' lips. His hand drops down, brushing Remus' cock through his pants, and in spite of his confusion, in spite of the fact that he is sure Sirius has just run mad, he moans, and arches up against him.

"I was afraid to tell you," Sirius continues. "I didn't think... but I couldn't take it anymore, not with you so close. I could hear you _breathing_."

"Oh God, Sirius."

And Sirius is kissing him again, warm lips and slick tongue, and Sirius' hands are twisted in his hair. Sirius shifts, moving on top of him, and maybe Sirius _isn't_ taking the piss after all, because his cock is hard and sliding against Remus' own.

Remus lets his hands wander Sirius' body, fingers slipping over his shoulders and back and sides, still shocked at being able to finally touch Sirius after wanting to for so long. Sirius' skin his heated, flushed, and it's everywhere, against Remus' arm and legs and chest.

"Get rid of these," Remus murmurs, yanking at Sirius' pants, and Sirius snorts.

"From the bloke who tried to come to bed fully dressed."

Remus should say something sharp to that, he really should, but he can't think; his pants are shoved down around his knees and Sirius' hand is wrapping around his cock, moving slowly. Remus arches up against Sirius, thrusting into his hand, and it's perfect, it's still better than he imagined, better than the dreams he's had of Sirius after which he's woken shaking and sticky.

"Touch me, Moony."

That -- Sirius _asking_ Remus to touch him -- is enough to tip Remus over the edge, and he comes, spilling over Sirius' fingers just as he gets his hand around Sirius' cock. Sirius growls when Remus starts to stroke, rocking against him, pushing himself into Remus' hand.

Remus can't help but wish the lights were on when Sirius comes, because he wants to see the look on Sirius' face, wants to see Sirius fall apart because of him.

"And you wanted to go home with James and Peter," Sirius chuckles, his voice low and hoarse.

"We still can, you know," Remus says, "and sleep in a bed that's big enough for both of us."

Sirius is quiet for a moment, then smiles against Remus' neck.

"You think Tom will give you some of that money back?"


End file.
